


𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦.

by carissimipaixao



Series: 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚. [4]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Past Relationship(s), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissimipaixao/pseuds/carissimipaixao
Summary: ❝i mourned you. we all did. and turns out you were alive, out there.❞━━━━━━soundtrack❝tombstone (2017 version)❞ (lupin the third: the blood spray of goemon ishikawa)
Relationships: Michael De Santa/Reader
Series: 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/868752
Kudos: 15





	𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦.

**Author's Note:**

> grand theft auto v (c) rockstar games

Stepping outside, [Name] pulled out her phone and quickly dialed the cabs company’s number. After a few rings, her request for a cab was denied, as they had every cab and driver occupied. The woman swore under her breath and started to walk away from the old factory. Perhaps, she would use the bus instead.

When rain started to pour down, she humorlessly laughed at her luck. _First, I almost get dragged into some gang bullshit. Then, my car breaks down and I can only use it in a few days after it’s repaired. My old friend contacts me to come to his new safehouse or what-the fuck-ever, and now it’s raining._

A car slowed down as she stood by the road, waiting for a green light. She ignored it with a huff until the window rolled down and a familiar voice called out. [Name] finally turned and narrowed her eyes for a second before sighing and approaching the car.

‘Hey,’ the man inside the expensive car started.

‘“Hey” yourself,’ she snapped.

He rose his hand as if in peace offering, ‘Woah, calm down, alright?’ He sighed, ‘Do you need a ride home?’ His icy gaze burnt into hers and she looked down for a moment before staring into his eyes again. Nodding, he unlocked the car and allowed her to slide into the comfortable seat.

‘Thanks,’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest, ignoring the wetness from the rain that clung onto her clothes. If she had her car or any other means to get home, she surely would not have accepted his offer.

‘No problem.’

The ride was silent as he stepped onto the pedal. The lights outside seemed like a blur as he sped down the road. The radio’s volume was low, and she recognized the station—Los Santos Rock Radio. A faint quirk appeared on her lips. _Seems like some things haven’t changed._

He turned to glance at her for a brief moment, ‘So, where do I drop you off?’

‘Sandy Shores,’ she crossed her arms and leaned against the seat.

The older man chuckled, ‘Why am I not surprised you chose that place? Somewhere far from civilization, but close to crazy drug dealers?’

She turned to look at him, giving a humorless quirk of her lips, ‘Why am I not surprised you chose to live among the rich fuckers in Los Santos?’ His smile fell and he frowned, gripping the wheel tighter. ‘No, really, it suits you. That's where most assholes and snakes hide, around luxury and fake people and their plastic surgeries.’

‘[Name], I—’

‘No! Shut the fuck up, Michael!’ She snapped, turning her torso so she could stare at him furiously as he drove in the highway.

Michael sighed but remained quiet, allowing her to continue, ‘You expect us to just _forget_ about it? Brad is in prison, from what Trevor has told me, you turn out to be alive and living the fucking American Dream, and we…’ She took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

The woman looked out the window for a moment, staring at the moon. ‘I… I _mourned_ you. We all did. And turns out you were alive, out here.’

‘Look, [Name], it's complicated,’ Michael glanced over, trying to make her gaze meet his icy stare. ‘I just want to apologize for the trouble I made you go through. I'm sorry for making this so… painful to you.’

There was a knowing tone in his voice, as if there was a secret only both of them were aware of. She ignored his comment and focused on listening to the radio. But, it was not long until she started to ponder about something else—a friend. 

‘What about Brad?’

‘What about him?’ His voice got rougher.

‘Does he know? That you're alive?’

‘I honestly don't know.’

‘We’ll need to find a way to help him escape,’ she mumbled. With a sigh, Michael looked at her from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head. ‘What? Did you expect me to just let him rot there?’ [Name] crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

He did not answer; instead, he just focused on the road, eyes narrowed and hands tight around the wheel. The woman turned away, staring out the window, as the voice of the legendary vocalist of Queen echoed through the vehicle.

She recalled the old times, when the gang was still together. Brad, Lester, Trevor and Michael; they were more than just allies to her. They were close friends. She trusted them with her life, and they trusted her with theirs. They were like…

 _A family._ My _family._ But it had been torn apart, years ago. Perhaps, there was still hope to reunite it. She knew that Lester and Michael were well and safe—and her heart trembled at the thought of them, of _him_ , being gone. Brad just needed to be rescued from prison.

‘How’s Trevor?’

‘He’s fine. He got himself a new “business”.’

‘“Business”?’ Michael echoed.

‘Gun trafficking and meth,’ she shrugged. ‘Welcome to Trevor Phillips Enterprises, my friend. Though, Lester has probably told you. And I’m sure he has more details about the business as well, if you’re _that_ interested.’

‘Are you two still in contact? Does he ask you to help him out in his “business”?’ She remained silent, frowning. ‘I’ll take that as a “no”, then.’

‘We kind of parted ways, after your… “death”. Back then, when you and Brad got shot, as you know, both of us tried to fight the cops off.’

_Trevor gripped his gun with a desperated look, ‘Ain’t gonna leave you, Mikey!’_

_‘Go!’ Michael pressed a hand against the wound, grimacing. Brad groaned weakly beside him. ‘God, I'm not gonna make it. Fucking gonna bleed out.’_

_‘We’ll get both of you out of here!’ [Name] tried to approach the two, stepping out of the cover._

_‘No, stay back!’_

_Just as he said that, a bullet hit where she would have stood next. A shiver went down her spine; she would have been dead if she had continued. ‘I’m not gonna leave you here, Michael Townley! I can’t—’_

_‘Just, go!’ There was a hint of fear in his eyes; was he afraid of dying right there and then? Or was it fear for something else?_

_The sound of the sirens increased, and [Name] felt like the world was coming to the end. There was little possibility of her and Trevor surviving and escaping the police. But, what about Michael and Brad? Her heart ached and her hands shook._

_‘What the fuck are you doing, just standing there?!’ Trevor’s howl made her snap back to reality, ‘Fucking shoot! Kill those motherfuckers!’_

_‘Fucking hell!’ She yelled before aiming at the nearest officer. Before even making sure he had dropped dead, she moved on to the next. Everything was a blur, as her eyes watered._ Is this the end?

_Michael hissed in pain, and pled them to leave. Brad was silent, and she feared the worst. However, she could not look away from the enemy; she continued shooting and shooting. The police officers kept falling, but more kept arriving to fight against her and Trevor._

‘[Name]!’

_They were running out of ammunition, as well as outnumbered; two criminals against what seemed like hundreds of cops. She spared a glance at Trevor, who quickly reloaded his weapon, shouting swears and growling. His gaze would have scared her, once. However, in that moment, it did again—there was only pure rage and bloodthirst._

‘[Name]!’

She moved away from the window with a jump. Michael was giving her a worried look. The woman sighed and glanced away, ‘Sorry. I was just… thinking.’ He did not press further.

They were slowly approaching Sandy Shores, and she felt that same asphyxiating sensation on her chest. That same anxiety that had tormented for _years_. [Name] found it so hard to believe he was really alive. When she heard that he was alive from Lester—when he sent those pictures—, she thought for sure they were fake. Yet, there was hope in her heart and she agreed to work on whatever he was planning if what he was saying was indeed true.

And so, her heart was beating rapidly as her hand reached for the doorknob. Swinging it open, she found herself in shock and awe—perhaps happiness and bitterness. The same man she had mourned and _loved_ for years was standing right there, in front of her. He looked different, but the woman saw Michael Towney. Except, he was now _De Santa_ ; and the truth broke her. Knowing that he had been so _close_ , while she spent almost ten years mourning and crying and _destroying_ her life (or what was left of it) because of a man who had lied to his partners, his friends.

Despite her anger, despite every twisted and bitter thought in her head—

 _Fuck_.

The woman groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘Something the matter?’ Michael quickly looked in her direction.

‘No,’ she waved her hand. ‘I’m… tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.’

‘Yeah, I bet,’ he chuckled.

‘ _You_ pop out of nowhere. How did you expect me to react?’

He was quiet for a moment, before sighing. ‘Well, definitely not as _calm_ as you were. I expected you to punch me or something.’

She nodded and scoffed, ‘Well, I _definitely_ wanted to punch you.’ The woman placed her hand on her chest, ‘But, I decided to be a professional.’ The man shook his head. ‘No, really. Not only were we doing business, I thought of Lester’s poor asthma.’

‘Right,’ he said.

As they approached the location, she quietly indicated him where to turn. In comparison to the city, Sandy Shores looked miserable. It did not mean it was any safer than Los Santos, but she felt better when being by herself and surrounded by people who seemed to resemble her kind.

‘There,’ the woman pointed at a small, white house. It was not in any better condition than the others, but as long as she had a roof over her head, she would not complain. The man stared at the house with what seemed to be _disgust_ , but he quickly wiped that face off his face. The car slowly stopped by the house and [Name] spared him a glance. ‘Well, thanks for the ride.’ She quickly opened the door and exited the car.

‘Wait, [Name]!’ Michael called. She froze mid-way of closing the door and leaned down to stare at him in confusion. He looked away for a moment, as if sheepishly, before turning to her again, ‘I need you to keep this a secret—especially from Trevor.’

‘Really? You want to continue this _lie_ for how long, exactly?’

He sighed, annoyed, ‘It’s complicated. And you know Trevor. If he finds out—’

 _When he finds out_ , she thought. ‘He’s gonna be pissed.’ He went silent. She shrugged, ‘Well, it’s not like we are still in contact, but… sure. Even if I don’t approve.’

‘Thank you,’ he smiled faintly. ‘Look, I, uh… I’ll keep in touch.’

She nodded and forced herself to bring a smile to her lips, despite the painful sensation on her chest, ‘See you soon.’ The woman closed the door and stepped away from the car, watching longingly as he slowly drove off.


End file.
